Water From A Stone
by Tornainbow
Summary: Cara must stay in Aydindril to watch over the fractured pieces of Kahlan while Richard and Zedd continue to quest for the Stone of Tears.


Richard stood with Cara outside the stables of the Confessor's Palace. Zedd mounted, waiting for them to trade their last words before he and Richard departed.

"Thank you," Richard said, holding the reins of his horse in one hand. He looked troubled, guilty, but determined. This parting was not easy.

"I'm only doing what I'm ordered," Cara clipped back, though she had her doubts about the two men getting anything accomplished on their own. She didn't think that she had much of a choice except to trust that her Lord Rahl knew what he was doing.

A ruckus erupted from the direction of the palace. Both looked over Cara's shoulder to see Kahlan marching down the path toward them, shaking free of the guards that attempted to stop her. She was not afraid to twist a wrist or use the weight of her elbow. The guards were glad to give up once they saw the Seeker ahead of them, opting to nurse their pained joints and bruises ribs.

"Richard!" Kahlan cried, her eyes wild with sorrow and longing.

Cara grimaced, looking off into the distant mountain peaks with a sudden desire to run. At her side, she heard Richard sigh loudly just as he mounted his horse, needing the physical distance between himself to make the parting easier.

Kahlan ignored Cara when she reached them, coming up along the side of Richard's horse and grabbing at the top of his boot as if to pull him back down. "Please, don't go!" she looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"Kahlan," he said softly, wishing he could coax sense into her with only gentle words, "I need to do this."

"Why can't we just be together? Why don't you want me anymore?" she asked, the pain in her voice tearing them both apart.

Kahlan looked hopeful when Richard laid his free hand on top hers, but then he closed his eyes against the sight of her. He pried her hand off, squeezing his goodbye for a brief moment before letting go.

Her other hand fell limply, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. "Richard!"

"I'm sorry, Kahlan," he murmured.

Helplessly, she watched him ride with Zedd through the gates, then disappear, swallowed by the city.

All at once, new emotions came crashing down on Kahlan. She crumbled to her knees, taking shuddering breathes as she tried to control another wave of tears. She felt ridiculous for her display, embarrassed, but her heart was too shattered to care.

"Why did I do that?" Kahlan asked when she heard Cara come up behind her.

Cara didn't answer, they both knew the reason. "Let's go back inside."

The Mother Confessor walked around her quarters like she wasn't wearing a rada'han around her neck, as if she hadn't been locked in that room for the past week. Kahlan had put up quite a fight before Cara subdued her, Zedd following with the rada'han.

"You don't actually expect me to just sit aside, locked up a prisoner in my own home, and let a _Mord'Sith _rule Aydindril, do you?" Kahlan asked, amused by the incredulity of the notion.

It was exactly what Cara expected. "Of course not. The high council is being reinstated."

Kahlan shook her head. "They're incompetent without a Confessor. I won't allow it," she said evenly, dismissively waving her hand at the idea.

"Dennee is already on her way, to sit the judge's seat." Cara smirked as Kahlan stilled, a stunned anger.

Zedd decided that sending for Kahlan's sister would be the best course of action. Neither half of Kahlan was fit to rule Aydindril, but the Mother Confessor wouldn't step down without good reason.

Cara was reminded of the beginning, when Kahlan didn't know how to handle her, where every look screamed her distrust, and every word was coated in self-righteous condescension. Somewhere along their journey, Kahlan had stopped being frustrated with Cara's blunt attitude, the stoic Mord'Sith responses. The barbed insults had become teasing remarks, and furious blue eyes began to find truths in Cara's actions, beyond the words.

Thinking of the past brought on the overwhelming urge to leave, which Cara gladly gave into. She threw her parting words over her shoulder, "Do me a favor and concentrate on watching your back, Confessor."

Dennee didn't hold back her grimace of displeasure at the sight of the Mord'Sith. Cara was too still, too tense to appear completely unaffected by the other woman's presence, something Kahlan would have noticed. Dennee did not.

Dennee barely looked at Cara, didn't bother with greetings. "Take me to her," she demanded.

Cara nodded, understood even though her throat felt tight. She led them through the halls while Dennee silently followed, but Cara could feel the heavy weight of eyes on her back. When Cara had apologized, she had expected a lot more time to pass before she would have faced Dennee again.

Cara paused outside the Confessor's room. "She's not herself," Cara ventured to warn Dennee, thinking it was worth another reminder.

Dennee's eyes narrowed. "Do not presume to tell me who my sister is." _Don't talk to me, don't look at me, don'tdon'tdon't_, the rest of her body said.

Cara didn't feel it was undeserved, considering present circumstances. She gave a half shrug, _So be it_. Cara stepped away from the door, giving wide berth to pass by. "I'll wait outside until you're finished, then we'll see the other."

"I'm sure one of the Home Guards can escort me," Dennee turned, and entering without waiting for Cara's response.

Cara's jaw clenched, wanted to lash back at the sheer frustration of it all. She held her tongue until Dennee was in the room, wishing she could be with Richard and Zedd, out in the wilderness, battling banelings instead balancing her time between coddling one woman while watching out for a dagger from the other.

And now Dennee.

After an hour, which ended with only a small amount of shouting—from what Cara could hear—Dennee came back out, frowning lines that were deep and bothered. Cara's knowing eyes were waiting for her.

Protecting Kahlan had not proved difficult—that is, Cara hadn't been fighting off waves upon waves of banelings. _Dealing _with Kahlan was another matter.

Cara couldn't bring herself to say there were good days, but there were moments, when Kahlan would find it in herself to not think of Richard, latching onto Cara as a distraction instead. Kahlan made them go on rides, picnic in the gardens. At Cara's insistence, they sparred together almost daily.

But for all the highs that Kahlan could reach, everyday came with tantrums and breakdowns.

Kahlan would scream, _You drove Richard away! You turn everyone against me!_

Or crumble, and sob, _I've gone mad. He'll never come back._

It was worse though, the mornings when Kahlan laid in bed, too defeated to escape her sheets. _I remember when my mind was my own._

Cara always felt uncomfortable, seeing such looks of hopelessness on Kahlan's face. It wasn't right.

When Cara couldn't console Kahlan—awkward hugs, stuttered words—she would stomp away to the Confessor, angry ranting on her tongue the moment Cara saw her. They would commiserate and bemoan the lack of sense around them, sparring with a dangerous thrill because Kahlan wasn't afraid to draw blood.

But as with the other, without fail, the Confessor would snap at Cara like a servant one too many times. Cara would leave, find the Kahlan that smiled brightly when she saw Cara, and repeat the process all over again.

Cara's time was spent alternate her attention between Kahlan, and Kahlan, falling into a steady routine of visiting each several times a day. It was a necessity, more than choice.

Richard returned.

"You've been gone for months, and you come back with nothing?" Cara sputtered in disbelief.

Richard swept a hand across his eyes, trying to ward off the headache he knew this conversation would bring. They stood in the council chamber, facing each other on the main floor, an empty Confessor's seat as their audience. Hearings for the public's grievances were finished for the day.

"We're trying, but finding the Stone is more important than what I want right now," he lowered his hand, looked at Cara with weary eyes. "I just need her to stay safe. Once we defeat the Keeper, we can figure out how to put her back together."

"So you're leaving. Again. Without me."

Richard raised both his brows, in that way that meant, _I believe in you_, before replying, "I need you to stay here, and protect Kahlan."

Cara didn't bite.

"Dennee is here, she can protect her," Cara argued, voice rising as she gestured toward the throne, the whole of the Confessor's Palace. She didn't want to mention that Dennee had barely acknowledged Cara's presence since she had arrived. "I could've found you the Stone by now."

Richard smiled softly, to himself more than Cara, stepping forward as he settled his heavy hands on her shoulders. She bristled, a twitch in her jaw. He said, "Zedd and I are struggling to stay ahead of the Keeper. We need you here so we can concentrate on the quest."

Cara jutted her chin defiantly. "It's a waste of my talents."

"No, it's not," his smile faded, grimness returned. "I'm asking you to take on the Keeper, and everything he throws at you, because he will try to kill her."

"Nothing a Mord'Sith can't handle," Cara replied cheekily, but by the angry edge in her voice, she was not mollified by his words.

His grip on Cara tightened, but he had nothing left to say. He let go with great effort, then quickly walked away.

Leaving.

He hadn't visited Kahlan, either of them.

_Kahlan_.

The Confessor's name was the only thing running through Cara's head, taking over like a mantra, like morning devotions repeated until it was the only thing she could hear.

Cara stepped over the fallen guard in front of Kahlan's room, hearing the faint sounds of fighting; metal striking metal. Her blood started beating to the ringing tempo in her ears.

Cara rushed in, seeing a flurry of black and white, Kahlan's robes, and the dark, hooded outfit of her assailant. Both had daggers drawn, four blades slicing through the air with deadly intent. Cara rushed forward, just as the man kicked, his boot connecting with Kahlan's hip.

Kahlan spun into the wall, grunting when she shit the stone hard enough to be dazed. It was the moment her attacker needed, he bore down on her with the point of his daggers aiming for Kahlan's exposed back. With no time for fancy footwork, Cara dipped her shoulder as she ran, checking him with the entire weight of her body. He went sprawling, though Cara managed to keep herself upright after a few stumbling steps.

The man scrambled to his feet as Cara drew her agiels, the sound a screaming duet. She stepped forward slowly, saying with a lazy, angry chuckle, "You've lost."

Screaming, he made his last effort, knowing that without the advantage of surprise, he stood little chance against the two skilled warriors. He threw his dagger at Kahlan, green fire of the Underworld shining behind his eyes. The moment the weapon left his fingertips, he staggered backward, blood spurting from his neck.

Cara only saw the blade as it sliced through the air. Before she could think to do otherwise, she threw herself in front of the flying weapon. Her agiel slashed through the air, and she felt a blooming pain against the back of her hand. The dagger clattered to the ground.

A groan rumbled in Cara's throat, beginning to feel the throbbing of her heartbeat pulsing through her fingertips. She raised her hand, turned it over; the back of her glove was slashed open. Cara looked at her hand like it had betrayed her, for daring to bleed.

"You're losing blood," Kahlan tugged on her arm, but Cara didn't budge.

Cara looked at the fallen man, seeing the handle of Kahlan's dagger sprouting from underneath his chin.

"He's dead, Cara, I killed him," Kahlan reassured, eyes creased with concern, though whether it was for Cara, or on behalf of her own health, Cara wasn't sure.

Cara blinked, feeling light-headed. "My eyes still work, I can see for myself," she said as she took a step toward him. Dizziness assaulted her, but she forced herself to keep moving, walking with unfocused vision. She shoved her agiels into their sheaths.

Kahlan called her name, cursing under her breath—_Spirits, so stubborn_—when Cara ignored her. "Sit down, you're going to hurt yourself—_Cara, you're still bleeding!_"

"Let's see who you are," Cara murmured. Her knees crashed to the floor, jolting her vision back into focus. Through furious blinking, she pushed away the assailants collar, found the marks she needed to find. With a snort of contempt, giving the body a half-hearted shove. "Order of Blood, filthy amateurs," she said louder, for Kahlan's benefit.

"Seduced by the Keeper, I'm sure," Kahlan added, kneeling so she could grab Cara's bloody hand. She carefully took the glove off, not wanting to agitate the wound more than necessary. "You should be more careful, you could've died."

Cara huffed, shaking her head. "My life is not as important as yours," she mumbled as she closed her eyes, content to let the other woman tend her hand. She wasn't sure when Kahlan had grabbed a damp cloth to clean her wound, but the cool press against her skin was soothing.

She didn't see the sharp, disbelieving expression on Kahlan's face, didn't hear it in her voice, "Only because the prophecy says so."

Kahlan was wrapping Cara's wound when Dennee burst in, armed guards filing in behind her. "What happened?"

Kahlan ran away after Richard.

It had been a moment of opportunity, fleeing on a whim of emotion. It was no surprise that Kahlan hadn't been thinking clearly; she hadn't even taken a horse. Even so, Kahlan had made it easy on Cara, injuring herself in a rocky, dried-out riverbed.

Cara finally caught up, found her sitting on a boulder, nursing her swollen ankle. Her eyes were dry, but her dirt-streaked cheeks were marked with recent tears. She looked up at the sound of Cara's approach, but she didn't make a move to flee.

A good sign.

They said nothing on the ride back, though Cara could hear the occasional whimper when Kahlan's ankle was jostled the wrong way. Telling herself that she didn't want the same fate to befall her horse, Cara rode at a careful pace.

Dennee met them at the gate, pinning Kahlan with a disapproving glare. "That was dangerous," she said, then looked at Cara with gratitude. "Thank you," the moment it slipped out of her mouth, she locked eyes with Cara in surprise.

Cara nodded in response, looked away quickly for both their benefit. She busied herself handing the reins to a stable hand, sliding from the saddle. Her hand came up, a scar of stitching on the back, to help Kahlan down.

"What does it matter if I leave?" Kahlan argued with her sister, the whine in her voice draining her words of any reasonability. In an urge to escape, she dismounted hastily, nearly collapsing when she landed on the wrong foot.

Cara caught her elbows, steadied them before carefully guiding one of Kahlan's arms around her shoulders. Her arm wrapped around Kahlan's waist, not noticing how closely Dennee watched.

"How am I supposed to protect you in two different places?" Cara helped Kahlan hobble toward the palace. "I don't have a fancy amulet to break in half," she said with wry amusement. If only there were two of her.

"The prophecy says—"

"As long as the Mother Confessor's pure heart beats, the Keeper is doomed to fail," Cara cut her off, reciting with exasperation, "I know what it says."

Cara was sick of this damn prophecy.

"Your_ Mother Confessor _is right there," Kahlan pointed toward the Confessor's Palace, toward the other Kahlan. "She has the power, and the desire, to fulfill that role. It doesn't even matter if I die," she said, almost petulantly.

Cara stopped them, ignoring Kahlan's wince as she lost her footing for a moment. Her blonde brows were furrowed angrily. "It matters," Cara said harshly, for the Mother Confessor was split from her pure heart, "You're in just as much danger."

Tears welled in Kahlan's eyes, and she brought her hand up to wipe them away. "I'm so sorry," she whimpered. "I know I'm making it hard on you. It's just," she sobbed, shoulders jerking, "I can't control myself. I get so overcome whenever I think about _anything_—and I just... I can't... I can't stop it."

Kahlan wiped at her tears, clumsy with fatigue and pain. With a sigh, Cara grabbed Kahlan's chin and turned it toward her. "Stop that," Cara voiced with her ill-humored affection, eyes studiously watching her thumb as it swept across Kahlan's cheeks. "At least you're alive."

When Cara finished drying Kahlan's tears, she found the other woman staring at her with something akin to awe. The look of adoration was hard to bear.

Cara was no one's hero.

They began moving again, Cara's stare pointedly fixed on the path ahead of them. She made show of hefting Kahlan's weight, found a better grip. "I'm going to consider staying dead the next time I'm in the Underworld."

"Please don't, I'm not sure what I would do without you," Kahlan admitted quietly, hiding her blush by looking at the ground.

Cara merely grunted her agreement.

"Dennee banned me from the judge's chair," Kahlan seethed angrily, pacing.

Cara shrugged, not surprised. "She only let you sit so that you could feel useful."

"I don't care to _feel _anything," Kahlan roared at the air, white robes fluttering behind her. Cara had never seen the Confessor so... full of emotion. Kahlan's eyes were wild, nothing near the disillusioned heights her other half reached, but it was there nonetheless.

Kahlan wanted to throw her hands in air out of sheer frustration, but the Confessor believed herself to be above such displays. She was out of sorts, hating the cloak of uselessness that everyone else was asking her to don.

The Confessor walked to the window, explaining, "Dennee has stripped me of all my duties. Without my merciful feelings," she spat the word out bitterly, "to temper my rule, every one of my decisions is called into doubt. And my _feelings _are an entirely separate being that spends all day crying in her room because her lover doesn't want her anymore!" She had to stop, to breathe until she was calm.

Cara pursed her lips together, no ready words of comfort. She didn't defend Richard, or say that he was merely waiting for Kahlan to become whole again, because she knew that wasn't the truth. A blonde woman, dressed in black, had accompanied Richard during his last, albeit brief return. Cara had sensed a familiar intimacy between them.

Cara also knew this Kahlan didn't care who Richard bedded, in the Confessor's mind, it was one less obligation to a woman who didn't exist.

Kahlan reached a hand up and touched the rada'han briefly. "I can't even continue the Confessor line, because according to Zedd, I'm only half a person."

"You don't really believe that," Cara said, coming up behind her.

"No," Kahlan shook her head, "but it feels like it."

The waning afternoon light was shining through the window, bathing Kahlan in amber hues. Cara had a hard time forgetting that Kahlan's soul was still split, she spent so much time with them, hours on end, that sometimes it felt as if she had spent the entire day with _her _Kahlan.

They were all flawed, all just pieces of a whole. Similarities and differences, all blending together.

"I wish I was could be selfish."

Cara had been lost in thought, and found the Confessor looking deep into her green eyes, Kahlan moved closer, invading Cara's personal space with intent. The Mord'Sith's skin prickled, seeing arousal in Kahlan's eyes.

"Kahlan," Cara began, moving back, needing to stretched the rising tension in the air, but Kahlan followed; went further, pressed her lips against Cara's.

The Confessor did not kiss her fiercely, like Cara expected. Their mouths slid and fit together gently, both lost in long denied touch. Kahlan pulled Cara closer by the hips, encouraged mouths to part, hummed in approval as their tongues slid against each other.

Cara pulled back, panting hot air, "What are you doing?" She swallowed, trying to clear her mind.

"I see the way you look at me, at _us_," she whispered as she scattered caressing kisses along Cara's jaw, "Wishing _she _was here instead."

As a Confessor, Kahlan didn't considered the prospect of love, couldn't imagine hoping for it. Pointless emotions led to needless pain. But what else was she left with? Richard had possession of the Stone, and the rada'han would not be around her neck for much longer. Confessors rarely had the opportunity to be intimate with the people they grew to love.

It made sense.

Cara's eyes gleamed with hunger, barely restrained. "She would be very angry at me for having my way with you."

Kahlan licked her lips, wanting exactly that. "Not if she's in love with you."

A short-lived laugh was cut off in Cara's throat. Pain unexpectedly lanced through her heart, a dying fantasy the moment it was realized.

Kahlan's mouth found Cara's pulse point just below the ear, sucked, and grazed her teeth along it, giving Cara the distraction she needed.

Kahlan was not always so gentle.

She slammed Cara up against the door, pinning the shorter woman there with the entire length of her body. She ducked her head to capture Cara's cry of surprise with her lips, hands sliding from Cara's shoulders, and into to the Mord'Sith's hair. They smelled like horses, and fresh air, the scent of an afternoon ride still fresh on their skin.

Kahlan filled herself with it, this feeling that had abandoned her.

"Kahlan," Cara breathed when she felt Kahlan rush wet kisses down to the valley of her breasts. She brought her hands up to Kahlan's shoulders, clutching like Kahlan clutched at her hips, thumbs pressing into soft spots that made Cara's core tighten. She wanted this, couldn't think of the reasons why she shouldn't.

"I need you," Kahlan licked at the hollow at the base of Cara's neck as she passed it, traced the tip of her nose against dip of bare skin. She turned her head, nudging the inside of Cara's breast, lips parting to caress the flesh, using her teeth to wrench a moan out of Cara. Kahlan laughed, body rumbling pleasurably against Cara.

"What about..." Cara struggled not to forget the rest of the question, "... Richard?"

"I don't love him anymore," her face was suddenly level with Cara's again. She looked eager to keep going, hands scrabbling at Cara's lacing. "I told you that." She made it sound so simple.

Cara blinked, faintly recalling the words from the other morning. Cara had arrived to wake her, but Kahlan surprised her, already dressed and ready for the day. Kahlan had said many things about love that day, but she said a great many things above love every single day; Cara could hardly keep track.

"I could forget everything," Kahlan slowly dropped to her knees, peeling away leather after her fingers made short work of the laces.

They both knew Richard was fast on his path to the Pillars of Creation. Tomorrow, the world could be saved, and the Seeker would return.

"Don't say that," Cara whispered, leaning heavily against the wood at her back, weight on her heels.

Kahlan guided Cara's feet apart, eyes cast upward with watchful intent, every detail hoarded. Cara threw her head back against the door, too distracted to be mindful of the thud the guard would hear on the other side.

"I love you," Kahlan kissed the inside of her thigh, then higher.

Cara moaned, closed her eyes, willing to sting to go away. "Don't say that," her voice came out strangled.

Kahlan told her over and over again, the entire night, with her eyes, her hands, her lips.

Richard and Zedd came back victorious, and by the grin on the wizard's face, Cara knew he had found magic powerful enough to put the two Kahlans back together. She tried not to dwell on it, telling herself that she should be happy, that in a few minutes, she could simply go back to being Mord'Sith, obeying and serving the Lord Rahl. She didn't dare hope otherwise.

Cara also learned that the blonde woman's name was Nicci. Richard was acting like he hadn't been lovers with the sorceress for the better part of the past year, but Cara assumed he either wanted to be with Kahlan again or break the news to her first.

Richard and Zedd met Cara outside the main council chamber. "Are they both in there?" Zedd asked, tilting his head toward the close, heavy, rosewood door.

Cara nodded, ignoring how Richard shifted uncomfortably. She waited outside while they entered; it would be easier if she didn't watch. She kept her back to the door, looked down the halls, but saw nothing.

It was quiet.

After a few minutes, Cara wondered if she should have been paying attention for some tell-tale sign. The ground didn't shake, no loud explosions, no twin tugs on her heart; there was nothing. She wondered if it was already over.

The door creaked behind her. Cara whipped around, stepping back as it opened just enough for someone slip through.

Kahlan poked her head through first, looking anxious. Her worry eased when she spotted Cara, melting into relief. She was still nervous, jumping when her name was called in exclamation from the main chamber. With a single glance backward, Kahlan hurriedly stepped through all of the way through the opening. She was quick to close the door behind her, took a moment before she turned around, and leaned against it.

Cara eyed her warily, chin raised and waiting. She stood stiff and defiant, like she was on trial, and Kahlan was about to announce the verdict.

Kahlan was looking at the ground—no, Cara's boots. "I remember everything," she finally looked up.

"And Richard?"

"Well, part of me is a little bitter," Kahlan said with a slightly distant look in her eye, remembering all the tears, the plates, brushes, anything she felt like throwing in the storm of her anger. She caught a laugh in her chest, trading amused grins with Cara; she remembered too. Kahlan cleared her throat, looked at Cara with utter honesty, and said, "And the other part of me... doesn't care, because I'm in love with someone else."

Cara exhaled softly, hidden worries leaving with her breath. Kahlan bit her bottom lip, a hopeful smile aching to curve at the corners of her mouth.

"Was he heartbroken?" Cara asked, feeling like she must be walking through a dream. She stepped closer, resting a hand on Kahlan's hip, staring where they touched like she couldn't believe she was touching _this _Kahlan again.

Kahlan shrugged, hesitantly resting her hands on Cara's shoulders. "I didn't really stick around." There had been blinding, thought-ripping light after Zedd spoke his incantation. She picked herself up from the floor feeling like one person, overwhelmed with the memories of two.

She asked for Cara, panic striking her veins when she didn't see her. Watching three sets of eyes flickered in one direction, Kahlan knew Cara was where she always was, never far.

The past year was a jumble of experiences, too confusing if Kahlan thought too hard about one part of herself or other. It was easier if she thought of them side-by-side, existing together. It changed everything.

Memories, believing herself to be alone, were filled in with Cara, seen through other eyes—always there, watching, and guarding. There were more memories still, of comfort, and understanding; distance and intimacy.

Kahlan was lost in silence, staring at Cara in amazement.

Cara started to frown, worrying that she might have been wrong, began to step back. Kahlan sighed, held Cara in place.

"Stop, this is real," she said with a touch of exasperation, murmuring softly, "I love you."

Kahlan leaned in, breathed in the desperate taste of Cara's lips. They pressed close—closer, until there were no cracks between them.


End file.
